


Negan Imagines: SFW

by robinwritesallthethings



Series: Jeffrey Dean Morgan Characters [21]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Family, Foreplay, Gen, Guns, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Injury, Language, Pregnancy, Reader-Insert, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:34:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 4,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22409548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinwritesallthethings/pseuds/robinwritesallthethings
Relationships: Negan (Walking Dead)/Reader
Series: Jeffrey Dean Morgan Characters [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1933015
Kudos: 27





	1. Imagine having to tell Negan your child is his.

You bite your lip as The Sanctuary comes into view. It's been years since you've been here. 

When you first arrived, you'd been Negan's wife. But then one of the outposts had needed to be managed, and you'd known you had the skills to do it. Neither of you had really wanted to leave each other, but it was necessary. 

You'd sent a message back when you'd realized you were pregnant, but he'd never responded to it. 

You'd been disappointed, but not necessarily surprised. He'd been in the middle of his war with Rick, and after he'd won, there'd been so much to rebuild. You could hardly blame him for focusing on the good of the many. 

You couldn't help wishing he'd wanted to meet his son, though. He's just like his father in looks and demeanor. You think that Negan would love him just as much as you do. 

Your heart clenches as the gate opens. Negan's in the courtyard. You'd known you'd have to face him eventually, but you'd been hoping to have some time. 

As soon as the truck stops, your son clambers over your lap and makes a beeline for Negan. You hurry to stop him, but you're too late. 

“Hi, Daddy!” 

Negan laughs. “Who the fuck's kid is this?” 

But when he bends to look at his face, his smile falters and his eyebrows raise. “Hey, little guy,” he murmurs curiously. 

He glances up as you join both of them, smiling apologetically. “Sorry, Negan. I didn't mean for him to ambush you.” 

He swallows carefully. “Bud, can I have a minute with your mom? I promise we'll hang out and get to know each other later, all right?” 

“Okay!” 

Negan pulls you aside so that you have some privacy. “When were you going to fucking tell me about him?” he asks tersely. 

For a moment, all you can do is stare at him dumbly. “What?” you finally manage to reply. 

Negan just growls in response. You've never seen him so angry, but he's keeping it in check, you're sure because he doesn't want your son to notice. 

“I sent you a message,” you explain. “When I realized I was pregnant.” 

“Well, I never got it.” 

“We got the supplies that were sent with the same messenger. I... I don't know what happened.” You lift your hands to cover your mouth. “Negan, I'm so sorry. If I'd realized you didn't know...” 

He runs his hand through his hair and then over his beard. “You thought I'd just abandon my kid?” 

You start to cry. “You were so busy, Negan. Everything was happening with Rick, and I just thought...” 

“Bring your things up to my room. His too. We're going to start being a family right now. We'll talk then, okay?” 

You nod, feeling more guilty than you ever imagined was possible. You're going to make this up to Negan somehow. 

You have to.


	2. Imagine running into your ex Negan the day before your wedding.

You glance down at the coffee mug in front of you, fiddling with your engagement ring. You shouldn't be here, but you can't help wanting to see him one last time before you get married tomorrow. 

Your breath catches in your throat as he walks through the door. He sees you right away; you carefully chose your table to make sure he would. 

He hesitates, lifting his hand and running it slowly over his beard. For a moment, you're afraid he's going to leave. But finally, he steps forward and sits down across from you. 

“Hi,” he says, trying to smile. 

You can't help tearing up. “Hi,” you manage to choke out. 

He looks like his heart is breaking. Then his eyes drop to your hand and he sees your ring. Now he tears up. “You're getting married?” 

You nod. “Tomorrow.” 

He swallows. “Tomorrow?”

He bites his lip and rubs a new tattoo on his forearm. As he pulls his hand away, you realize that it's your name in a heart. 

“When did you get that?” you can't help wondering. 

“A few months ago,” he reveals quietly.

He falls silent and you wait. There has to be more than that. A man doesn't get your name tattooed on his body for nothing. 

“Are you happy?” he whispers. 

“You know I wouldn't be sitting here if I was. He's a good man, Negan. But he's not you.” 

You'd never wanted to leave him. But you'd been ready to commit and he'd told you that he wasn't sure he ever would be. He hadn't even let you discuss living together. He'd just shut down and brushed you off. 

“I made a mistake,” he confesses. “I should have told you, but I was afraid that it was too late.” 

“It's not,” you assure him. “But it has to be different, Negan.” 

“It will be,” he promises, reaching into his pocket. “I bought the house you always liked,” he tells you softly. “I walked by it one day and there was a for sale sign. I've been getting it ready.” 

He opens his hand and reveals a ring. “Don't marry him,” he begs. “Marry me. I've always loved you. I was scared and I was stupid, but now I'm ready.” 

You twist the ring you're wearing off and give him your hand so he can put his on. “Let me come with you,” he requests. “I don't want you to have to explain by yourself.” 

“Let's do it now,” you agree. “I want our life together to start right away, Negan.” 

He stands and pulls you into his arms, and everything is finally right again.


	3. Imagine being lost in the blizzard with Negan.

“Well, where the fuck is she?” Negan yells.

He got Judith and Dog back to Alexandria just fine, but the storm’s getting worse and now they’ve told him that you’re missing.

“We can’t risk going back out for her, Negan,” Gabriel argues.

“Then I’ll go! No one here gives a shit if I die!”

“You’re hurt, Negan,” Gabriel replies patiently.

“So patch me up enough so I can get back out there! She went out there to help find Judith. You can’t just leave her out there by herself now!”

Thankfully, they don’t want to argue with him. They get his leg fixed up as best as they can and let him go back out into the storm.

He fights against the wind, screaming your name. He has no idea where to go, but he’s determined.

He finally trips over something, blinded by the ice and snow. He groans in frustration, but then he hears your voice.

“Negan?”

“Shit! There you are!” He fumbles, grabbing onto you. You’re shaking like a leaf from the cold. “We have to get somewhere and ride this out.”

Your hand finds the bandage on his leg. “You’re hurt, Negan.”

“I’ll be fine. Come on.”

He manages to stand with you in his arms, stumbling forward, looking for shelter of any kind. He’s hoping he’s near the small building he found Judith at. At the very least, the two of you could stay out of the snow.

For once, luck is on his side. He pushes the door open with his shoulder, then levers it shut again with his back. He lays you down in front of the fireplace and looks around for something to start a fire with.

A few minutes later, there’s a fire roaring in front of you. Negan gets down on the floor and pulls you into his arms.

“No blankets,” he tells you. “So we’re just gonna have to fucking snuggle until this shit is over.”

You laugh, clinging to him, trying to stop shivering. “I’m not going to complain.”

He nods. “First chance we’ve had to really be alone together since we met, sweetheart.”

“Don’t get fresh with me, Negan,” you stammer, your teeth chattering. “I want the first time to be romantic.”

He chuckles. “Promise I won’t, sweetheart.”

He holds you tightly. Slowly, you warm up. Finally, you’re able to ask, “Did they find Judith?”

He nods. “I got her back.”

“Good.”

His lips brush your forehead gently. “Rest now, sweetheart. Storm’ll be over soon.”

You snuggle into his chest and sigh. This is definitely not the worst way to spend your time during a freak blizzard in the apocalypse.


	4. Imagine getting hurt while you're pregnant with Negan's baby.

You wince as you push the cart through the grocery store. It hurts your arm, but you don't have much choice.

You're surprised when you look up and see Negan, your boyfriend. You didn't exactly break up, but he hasn't been around much since you found out that you were pregnant.

You know he's trying. He's scared; he just doesn't think he's ready for kids. He's keeping his distance because he's worried about screwing everything up.

His eyes go wide when he notices your arm. “What happened?” he asks.

“I fell,” you explain.

Before you can say more, his hand is on your belly. “Are you okay? Is the baby okay?”

He sounds panicked.

“It's just sprained, not broken. And the baby is fine,” you soothe him.

“You could have called me,” he points out.

You bite your lip. “I've called you dozens of times, Negan,” you remind him softly.

Not after you fell, but at that point, you had pretty much stopped trying.

Suddenly, you sniffle. “I can't make you want this, Negan. I know you're scared. Don't you think I'm scared too? I don't know what I'm doing, not at all. But I can't run away. I just... I just wish we could do this together, Negan. At least then we could talk to each other and figure things out that way. I'm tired of having to guess if you'll be there when I need you.”

He pulls you close as you start to cry, being careful of your arm. “I'm sorry,” you apologize tearfully. “I'm not trying to make you feel guilty. I'm just alone and in pain and there's so much to do.”

You'd been relying on him to be involved. To help you get everything ready, to take you to appointments, to hold you at the end of a long day and tell you everything's going to be all right. Instead, he's just been absent, and it's starting to wear on you.

“In pain?” Negan wonders. “You're not taking anything?”

“I can't, Negan. I'm pregnant.”

He sighs. “Right.” He pauses. “I'm an idiot.”

He kisses your forehead. “Where's your list?”

He knows you always have a list for everything.

“It's on my phone,” you murmur. “I have an app.”

“Okay. Let's get everything you need and then get you home to rest.” As you stare up at him, he smiles. “I'm here from now on. I promise. I'm sorry it's taken so long.”

You nod. “I have an appointment next week to find out if we're having a boy or a girl. Will you come with me?”

“Of course I will,” he assures you. He slips his fingers under your chin and tips it up so he can look into your eyes. “I love you, you know. I'm going to make up for everything. I swear.”

You cling to him gratefully, finally feeling calm after months of anxiety. “Thank you, Negan. I love you too.”


	5. Imagine meeting Negan in the line-up.

You try to breathe calmly. You’ve been kneeling for a while now, willing your legs not to shake, steadfastly avoiding the gaze of the elusive Negan, who has finally revealed himself. 

The tension in the line of your companions is palpable. Eugene is crying. Maggie is sick. Daryl is wounded. Everyone is afraid. 

And this Negan clearly likes the sound of his own voice. It feels like he’s been talking for hours, although practically you know it’s only been a few minutes. 

He’s drawing this whole charade out unnecessarily, in your opinion. You saw the way he looked at Abraham when the imposing man had risen up on his knees to challenge him. 

If you were Negan, you wouldn’t let Abraham walk away. 

Suddenly, Negan’s legs fill your gaze. His bat taps your shoulder. It’s an oddly gentle touch; you can feel the barbed wire and the hard wood, but it doesn’t hurt. 

“You are remarkably fucking stoic, sweetheart,” Negan purrs. You think he’s going to ask you to stand, but instead he kneels down to your level and gently cups your rounded belly in his large hand. 

The tension in the line grows. 

“And which one of them does this little guy or gal fucking belong to, huh?” Negan glances at each man in turn. “None of them really seem like your fucking type.” 

You can’t help your grimace. So much for being stoic. 

“No one here is the father,” you answer quietly.

As far as you’re concerned, there is no father. 

“Someone back home?” Negan drawls, grabbing your chin and lifting it up so you’re forced to meet his gaze. “Tell me, honey, or I might just fucking decide to take two of you tonight.” He slams the tip of the bat into the ground to punctuate his threat. “Then again,” he growls, “maybe one is fucking enough.” His hand tightens on your belly. “I have a doctor who could fucking stitch you up after. Or maybe I’ll still fucking kill one of them, and just fucking take you. I could fucking raise that baby up right and fucking get rid of you once you’re not needed anymore.” 

“Take it if you want it,” you tell him wearily. “I didn’t ask for it. And I’m tired of being pitied. Everyone pities me because of what happened, and everyone pities me because they think it’s going to kill me. So, please,” you whisper, starting to cry, “just get it over with.” 

His eyes flicker briefly with rage and then settle into something you haven’t seen in a long time. 

Kindness. 

No pity. Just kindness. 

“Into the trailer with you,” he murmurs quietly, his charming mania completely gone. “My doctor will look at you and I’ll take care of you. Not because I pity you,” he adds soothingly. “Because you deserve it.” 

You’re not in a position to say no, and honestly, you don’t want to.


	6. Imagine Negan proposing to you in the line-up.

You’re on your knees, just like he ordered, your head bowed. You keep your hands from shaking by balling your skirt up in your fists and pressing your fingers into your thighs. What you can’t control are your eyes. Your gaze is fixed on him, following every movement he makes. He’s perfectly in control, and you doubt that there’s anything anyone could do that would shake him. 

“I’m going to make you an offer you can’t refuse,” he says. “You people have been surviving out here for a long time, and that’s impressive. That means you can be useful to me, and I can damn sure be useful to you. So here it is. You come work for me. You provide for me, and you reap the benefits.” He pauses, his eyes sweeping over your group. “Any takers?” 

You carefully glance to your right, waiting to see who will answer. Your situation isn’t good; you don’t have much left, and your base is a joke. Whatever he has, they should all want it. But they’re stubborn, so they’re trying to resist. 

“Really? Nobody?” He surveys the line, his tongue making a sucking sound against his teeth. “Well, that’s no good.”

He lets the bat fall from his shoulder and taps it against his leg. Then he tilts his head as his attention falls on you. Your breath catches in your throat as he leans down in front of you, balancing the bat on the ground and resting his wrist on it. 

“How about you, doll?” he wonders, grasping your chin in his gloved fingers and lifting your face so he can look at you. “Damn, you are a pretty little piece. Tell me what you’re thinking, honey.” 

You take a deep breath, licking your lips before you answer. “I think it’s a good offer, and that we should take it,” you answer.

You try in vain to keep your voice steady, but it quivers. 

“Mmm,” he chuckles. “You’re smart.” He brushes his thumb over your lips and you can’t suppress a gasp at the feel of the rough leather against your soft skin. “I have a better offer for you,” he reveals, his eyes glinting mischievously. 

“A better offer?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. 

He nods. “Ever been married, sweetheart?”


	7. Imagine taunting Negan in the line-up.

“Fuck you,” you snarl as Negan points the bat in your face. “Quit fucking talking and use it if you’re going to use it.” 

He grins. “Well, well, fucking well!” he drawls. “You’re a fucking spitfire, aren’t you? I fucking like that.” 

“It’s not going to do you any fucking good,” you retort. You cross your arms across your chest, then reach out and poke the end of the bat with one finger. “I knew you were fucking chicken,” you add sharply. 

His eyes narrow. “I am not fucking chicken, sweetheart,” he growls. 

“Then fucking prove it.” 

He stands slowly, sucking his teeth. Then he yanks you up by the collar of your jacket, dragging you after him as he exits the trailer. 

He stops, throwing you forward so you land on your back in front of your people, then hits you in the shoulder with the bat. It smarts, and you’ll definitely have a bruise, but you can feel that there’s no permanent damage. Your leather jacket even protected you from the barbed wire. 

The next hit embeds the bat in the ground right next to your head. 

“If you wanna fucking die, doll,” he hisses, “fucking do it yourself. You’re not going to fucking goad me into fucking doing it for you. Now are you going to fucking cooperate or not?” 

“Make me,” you dare him through gritted teeth.

You may not have a choice, but you’re not going to make it easy for him. 

“Oh, honey.” He smirks. “I love a challenge.”


	8. Imagine making gingerbread cookies for the kids at The Sanctuary and Negan thinking they’re cute.

“You made gingerbread zombies?” Negan wonders, picking up a cookie that appears to be artfully missing an arm. 

“Yes?” you answer him uncertainly.

He catches the curious lilt in your voice and smirks. “What happened?” he chuckles, coming over and wrapping an arm around your waist, kissing your temple affectionately. 

“They brought the daycare to see the kitchen and apparently the kids thought it would be less conspicuous to just eat a few limbs off of each cookie instead of stealing them whole.” 

“Little fuckers are too fucking smart for their own fucking good,” Negan observes. He turns the little man over in his hand, studying it. “It’s still pretty fucking cool, though.” 

He chomps off the head, swallowing before he wiggles what’s left in your face. “Now he can’t bite anybody.” 

“Thank goodness you’re here to save us all,” you tease. 

Negan winks at you. “You’d be fucking doomed without me,” he agrees. 

“You’re humble too,” you joke, nudging him with your shoulder. “I don’t know why I put up with you.” 

Negan leans down and nuzzles your cheek playfully. “Because you like my fucking dirty sense of humor and I fuck you so fucking good,” he whispers, clasping his other arm around you and raining kisses all over your face. 

You giggle as Negan lifts you onto the counter, pushing your skirt up and pulling your panties down as he shoves the rest of the gingerbread in his mouth. 

“I ate my cookie,” he announces, grinning wickedly between your thighs. “Now I’m going to eat you.”


	9. Imagine Negan loving it once your baby bump starts to show.

You’re leaning against the headboard of Negan’s bed. The only sound in the room is your knitting needles clicking away. He found a store on his last run and brought you back a whole truckload of yarn and other supplies. 

When the door opens, you glance up excitedly, slipping carefully to the edge of the bed, the blanket you’re working on covering your stomach and thighs. Negan sighs, running his bare hand through his hair. Lucille is hanging at his side and his leather jacket is still on. He’s clearly tired, but he smiles at you. 

“Hey there, honey,” he murmurs. “You okay?” 

You nod shyly, smiling back at him. “Something happened while you were gone,” you tell him, setting the blanket aside and standing up.

His eyes widen and his smile broadens until it reaches his eyes. They sparkle as he looks at you proudly. “I like that,” he purrs, tilting his head to the side. “Damn, sweetheart. I could look at you all day.” He twirls his finger in the air. “Turn for me?” he requests, and you gladly oblige, blushing. 

Negan sets Lucille aside and starts to undress until he’s in nothing but his boxer briefs. You move the knitting off the bed. Then he’s behind you, slipping your shirt over your head so you’re only wearing your bra and panties. He drops a kiss on your shoulder, his large, strong hand cupping the newly visible swell of your tummy as he pulls you back against him, rocking you back and forth gently. 

After a moment, he lifts you, settling your body into the nest of sheets, blankets, and pillows he’s amassed on the bed over the past few months to ensure that you’re as comfortable as possible. He crawls in next to you, resting his head on your belly, caressing it with his hand. You shiver a little and he looks up at you, concerned. “Honey?” he whispers, and you smile at him again. 

“It feels nice,” you answer quietly, and he smiles again too, pressing a kiss to your soft, tight skin. 

“Do you think the baby’s a boy or a girl?” he wonders. You stroke his hair and shake your head. 

“I don’t know yet. Dr. Carson says we should be able to find out in a month or so.” 

“Okay, sweetheart.” He brushes his nose against you. “Now relax. I’m going to sing to my favorite girl and my baby.” 

You lean back, closing your eyes, still stroking his hair. You giggle and feel him grin against your skin in response as he softly starts to sing “Take Me Out to the Ball Game.”


	10. Imagine meeting Negan during the apocalypse when you knew him before.

“You’re still a shy little thing, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Negan muses, leaning back against his desk. 

You can’t help blushing, even after being at The Sanctuary for weeks. You’ve always been quiet, and you’ve never trusted people easily. You wouldn’t have come here at all if it hadn’t been for Negan. 

You were a nurse at the hospital where his wife died. You stayed behind when everyone else evacuated, but had to run when the patients started changing. Negan found you hiding in the parking garage, terrified, and offered to take you with him. You stuck together for a few weeks, but were separated when a herd attacked. 

You’d returned to the area and searched for him when you could, but hadn’t found anything. You’d thought he was dead until he showed up a few weeks ago and saved you again. 

You’ve been working with Dr. Carson, but things have been uneasy between you and Negan so far. Today, he announced that he would no longer have multiple wives and then asked you up to his office. 

“I suppose I am,” you admit, looking down at your hands. 

Suddenly, he’s in front of you, lifting your chin with his long fingers while his palm presses gently against the small of your back, pulling you to him. You blink in surprise as you stare up at him and see tears in his eyes. 

“I thought I got you killed, sweetheart,” Negan murmurs. 

“I thought I got you killed,” you reply. “I went back and looked for you, but there was nothing. I thought they…” 

You can’t finish. 

“You’re safe now,” Negan promises. “I’m never going to let anything happen to you ever again.” 

“You don’t have to do that, Negan. I’m all right.” 

“I want to.” Negan sighs. “You were always so kind to me, sweetheart, and to… to her. I don’t think I ever thanked you for that.” 

“It was my job.” 

Negan pauses, licking his lips nervously. “It was more than that.” 

You stay silent and try to look away, but he holds your chin in place. 

You hadn't meant to fall for him. His wife had been dying. You weren't a homewrecker. 

But you hadn't been able to help it. 

You'd never said anything, though. You hadn't realized he'd known. 

“I love you,” he confesses quietly. “Please be mine.” 

“You got rid of them for me?” you wonder. 

He nods. 

“You didn’t even know if I would say yes,” you point out. 

He smiles. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t want them anymore.” 

You slowly wrap your arms around his waist and rest your head gently on his chest. “I love you, Negan. I’m yours.” 

He holds you close, and you know that you will never have to be afraid again.


	11. Imagine saving Negan from a herd and him asking you to marry him.

“Fucking fuck, this is not how I fucking die!” the man yells.

There’s a loud, wet, smacking sound as he bashes a walker with his bat. He howls as another walker grabs him from behind, dropping the bat as it gnaws at his leather jacket. 

You jump down from the tree you were hiding in, whistling sharply. The walker lets the man go and he whirls to face you, his brow furrowing. “Who the fucking fuck are you?” he wonders, picking up his bat again so he can start killing walkers as they turn and begin shambling towards you. 

You pull out your katana and commence neatly slicing heads from bodies. Before long, the small herd is dead at your feet. 

You clean off your sword while he stares at you. “Damn, sweetheart. You wanna fucking marry me?” 

You laugh and he raises his eyebrows. 

“Oh, you’re serious,” you realize after a moment. You pause. “That’s definitely the strangest thing I’ve been asked after saving someone’s ass, so congratulations.” 

He slings his bat over his shoulder and smirks. “So what do you fucking say, doll? I’m Negan.” He gestures to the bat. “This is Lucille. And your fucking badassness and adorable tinyness are making my dick about as hard as her right now.”

He actually pats your head as he stands in front of you; it only comes up to about the center of his chest. 

You shrug. “Why not, Negan? I’m probably never going to receive another offer of marriage, that’s for sure.” 

“I’m not so sure about that, darling. Come on,” he says, pointing with the bat. “My place is this way. I have some asses to kick for being so scared they shit their pants and fucking abandoned their fearless leader.” 

He cups your chin in his fingers and leans down to give you a soft, sensual kiss. A moan quickly escapes you and Negan chuckles in satisfaction. 

“Oh, you are fucking in for it, baby,” he whispers teasingly. “That was just a sneak preview.”


End file.
